You’ve just arrived in a swampy, dim town. As you look around, your gaze is met with shacks and cabins. It smells of rotted wood and wet moss. You duck and step into a tattered tent, illuminated by a series of candles suspended in the air. At the back of the tent, an old hag raises her head, “What brings you to this dingy town? she begins, then pauses to study your face—”Ah, it’s you. I’ve been expecting you. Sit,” she gestures at a cushion, “Tell me your story.”
((How do you respond?))
"Nothing to tell." Elyan mutters as she sis down on the cushion. There was no way she would risk telling why she was here in fear of what would happen to her family. As her eyes scanned the wrinkled smile, she was reminded of her grandmother. Elyan sighed, rubbing her eyes before speaking. "I am looking for a medicine, a cure for sickness. What it is, we don't know, but my grandmother is sick. Do you have any leads?"
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